


Kate Bishop’s Guide to Being an Accomplice in Conquering the Universe

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel 616, The Avengers (2012), Young Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU that combines the MCU and the current Young Avengers.  Loki, a kid no more, takes Kate instead of Clint, and a clusterfuck ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Our Story Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Orginally posted to my tumblr.

“Bummer you got stuck babysitting, boss-man,” Kate says, bumping Clint’s knee with hers. He snickers, the light sound echoing behind them in the rafters.  
  
“I don’t know why Fury wants the junior squad on this,” she replies, “but hey, at least you got me and not Teddy or Billy. Or both. Oh my god.” Clint elbows her in the ribs.  
  
“Oh my god is right, Katie-Kate,” Clint retorts, “take this a little less seriously, why don’t you.” Kate rolls her eyes.  
  
“You’re one to talk.” she says. Clint lazily pulls an arrow from his quiver, holding it up to the light to inspect.  
  
“That’s definitely an arrow,” Kate remarks, leaning back on her hands.  
  
“You don’t say?” he retorts. He has a reply ready for her but she brings a hand to her ear, brow creasing.  
  
“What? Billy, you’re not making any sense. Everything’s fine.” Clint gives her a quizzical glance, and she holds up a finger to silence him. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll check it out. No America doesn’t need to come over. Whatever, Billy. Hawkeye out.” She sighs as her com goes silent again, rising fluidly to her feet. “Billy says he’s getting magical disturbance,” she remarks, “but it looks fine to me.” She leans over the railing, and Clint makes it a point not to stare at her ass.  
  
“Sit back down, Kate,” he says, “you know magicians are always jumpy.”  
  
“I mean it does look a little bluer than usual,” she notes. Clint raises an eyebrow, pulling himself on to his feet to get a better look.  
  
“Damn,” he replies, “it kind of is.” Kate shakes her head.  
  
“We should go check it out,” she says, and Clint lets out a frustrated huff. “Don’t be a bitch, Barton. Come on. She grabs his wrist without a warning, pulling him towards the stairs. It’s kind of embarrassing, being dragged around by a 19-year-old, but Clint supposes that it’s really just how Kate is.  
  
“Hey Fury,” Clint calls down, “does that cube seem to be acting any more magical to you? Just wondering.” Fury doesn’t bothering dignifying Clint’s question with a response. Kate lets out a snicker. She releases his wrist when they get to the stairs, and Clint takes that as a cue to leap over the side railing to the lower floor. Because, you know. Stairs are for tools. Kate’s feet land softly behind him.  
  
“Definitely for tools,” she agrees, without him even having to say it aloud.  
  
“Is there a reason you two have decided to leave your post?” Fury asks them. He doesn’t bother to tear his gaze away from the cube.  
  
“Billy said that magic is on the fritz,” Katie replies.  
  
“And you couldn’t use your very expensive communication device to convey this message to me?” Fury asks again.  
  
“I mean, we wanted to check it out,” Clint says. “Look at it. It’s bluer than usual. So, I mean. Just doing our jobs.” Fury sighs in frustration. Clint circles the cube, tilting his head to examine it.  
  
“Explain to me,” Fury says, his tone growing uneven, “why you think you can do a better job than our scientists.” Kate’s about to retort when Clint raises his head, as though he’s suddenly been struck by some sort of idea.  
  
“Hey,” Clint says, “that cube is a doorway to the other side of space, right?” Fury frowns.  
  
“Yes, Barton. It is.” Clint glances at Kate from the corner of his eye.  
  
“Doors open from both sides,” Clint remarks.  
  
“That’s deep, Clint,” Kate says. “Seriously.” Clint shrugs.  
  
“Just an observation,” he replies. Kate gives a bemused smile, which Clint easily returns. Of course, this is the moment all hell chooses to break loose.

  


It starts with another call from Billy, of course. At least Clint thinks it does, because Kate goes,  
  
“Well if it’s so bad, then just teleport here and stop it!” To which she gets an infuriating reply, and she responds with, “Well what good are you!?” And then, the cube literally starts spitting out blue energy-like, no warning, it’s just spewing the stuff everywhere.  
  
“Is that what Billy called about?” he asks. Kate’s appeared at his side, somehow, and he’s not sure if he ran to her or she ran to him but they both duck at the same time.  
  
“Magical interference,” Kate replies, “it’s blocking him out.” Clint scoffs.  
  
“So what good is he?” Clint asks.  
  
“I know, right?” Katie replies.  
  
“Could you two please focus on the task at hand?” Fury bellows. The Hawkeyes reach for their bows, but not before giving each other a look that seems to say, “what’s with him?”  
  
“So, are we just gonna shoot whatever comes out?” Kate asks, which makes Clint laugh.  
  
“Isn’t that what we always do?” Clint replies. Fury seems like he couldn’t be less pleased that they’re flanking him.  
  
“Do not shoot anything,” Fury says, “until I give the order.” Clint rolls his eyes. The cube-thing is literally shaking the damn place, and Clint kind of wants to tell Kate to get the hell out of the building in case it collapses, or something-but it’s not like she’d listen.

  


The formal title for what happens next is “trans-diminutional rift.” Though Clint calls it a really bizarre light show with a vortex in the middle, and he’s kind of satisfied about being right about the door thing. Kate whacks him lightly with her bow.  
  
“Seriously, Hawkeye?” she says, “let it go. You were right. We’ll mail you an award.”  
  
“I’m not going to get an award if we all die, Hawkeye,” he retorts. Kate snickers.  
  
“Next time,” Fury says, “I’m sending the two of you to Antarctica.”  
  
“We can’t go to Antarctica if we all die,” Kate notes.  
  
“Shame. I wanted to meet a penguin.” Clint says. Fury clenches his fists and Clint’s pretty sure he’s grinding his teeth. And the vortex is still going which, come on. Make an entrance already, big bad. You’re getting boring.

  


Also, has Clint ever mentioned that he’s an idiot and he says the most stupid things, probably ever?

  


Because in the following five seconds, the big bad actually does appear, some guy in a green coat just kneeling in the center of the floor, and Kate goes,  
“No fucking way.”  
  
“Agent Bishop,” Fury mutters, “Do you know our guest?” The guy looks like shit and this is the bad guy? Seriously? Well, okay then. Shouldn’t be a problem (also, God, if you’re up there, Clint is really sorry for tempting fate. Seriously. That’s on him).  
  
“Yeah,” she says, and she steps forward, in front of Fury, in front of Clint, and she says, “Loki, are you out of your fucking mind?” Loki, which is a stupid name, rises shakily to his feet.  
  
“Kate Bishop?” he asks. Clint doesn’t like the way he says her name. He’s also not fond of the fact that Katie-Kate is apparently buddies with an interdimensional big bad.  
  
“You couldn’t have, oh I don’t know, texted?” Kate demands, and she keeps moving closer to him, like it’s no big deal. The guy’s holding a spear, and Kate doesn’t even seem to mind. “Also, how was puberty?” She’s close enough to him now that he could touch her, and Clint can tell he’s considering it, and he knows Kate can too,  
  
“Damn it, Katie-Kate!” Clint calls out, perhaps more paranoid than he’d intended, “Could you at least introduce your date?” Kate whips her head towards him, which means she’s looking away from Loki. Clint Barton is an idiot. This isn’t news, but it’s an important fact to keep in mind.

  


The next little bit happens like a nightmare-Kate opens her mouth to tell Clint to shove it, she’s busy, and this Loki guy grabs her arm and holds her. She whips her head back to him.  
  
“No touching, kid idiot. We’ve been over this.” she says, and Loki grins wide enough that Clint, for the first time, actually feels kind of afraid.  
  
“I am not a child any longer, Kate Bishop,” he replies, his voice far too even. Kate smirks.  
  
“No shit. Seriously, when America sees you she’s-” and Clint has no idea what, exactly, America is going to do, because Loki’s swung his spear too fast for Kate to react and he’s got it right in the center of her chest. The guns are locked and loaded in an instant, but Loki only clicks his tongue.  
  
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” he says. He sounds pleased. Something blue crawls up Kate’s neck and into her eyes and oh, fuck no, Katie-Kate, what did you get yourself into?  
  
“Kate!” Clint calls, and receives no response.

  


Also, the ceiling falls in, a teensy bit, the next second. Oddly enough, it’s not because of the cube, but because Miss Fucking America has crashed in, and she looks quite pissed. Which is good. Pissed is good.  
  
“Excuse me!” Nick Fury finally yells, at Miss America, at Loki (who is still holding Kate hostage), at the entire room, “we have a door! If you did not come in through that door, it is because you are not supposed to be here!” America ignores him entirely, which takes balls, and goes,  
  
“Loki, put Kate down before I make you.” And Fury mutters something about fucking teenagers, and loads his gun.  
  
“What the lady said, sir,” Fury adds. “Release Agent Bishop.” Loki removes his hand from Kate’s arm, holding up as if he’s surprised that he wasn’t supposed to touch her. He even takes a step back, though he’s still got that spear in his other hand.  
  
“And the weapon,” Fury says. That earns him a smirk. Also, Kate is still just standing there, oddly calm, and that’s a sign that something’s wrong if Clint’s ever seen one.  
  
“Kate Bishop?” Loki says, and Clint knows that hand twitch better than he knows himself, and he’s shouting,  
  
“Duck!” before his brain even registers it.

  


Miss America punches the arrow in half, which would be pretty cool if it wasn’t Kate’s arrow. That she’d just fired. At her teammate. Fuck.  
  
“Chico,” Miss America snarls, “you have two seconds to explain what you did. And then one to fix it.” Loki laughs. It’s a drawn out sort of sound.  
  
“I have news for you, Chavez,” he replies, and he fires, “you don’t get to speak to me like that.” America is not as lucky with the second projectile, the one Loki shoots from his stupid fucking spear. She’s flung into a wall, and Fury actually swears out loud, probably because he’s going to have to pay for damages, and Clint swears too, but that’s because Kate’s notched another arrow and she’s got it pointed at his heart.  
  
“You should let us go, Hawkeye,” she says, calmly, like she’s just asking for a soda.  
  
“Kate,” he says, “Listen to me.” He pauses, and she cocks her head. Shit. He doesn’t know what to say. Fuck. “Kate,” he repeats. “Wake up?”  
  
“We could kill a lot of people, Hawkeye,” she replies, still calm, still way too fucking calm (and what the fuck is wrong with her eyes), “so you should really let us go.”  
  
“I can’t do that, Katie-Kate,” he says. She draws her bow. 

  


Fury signals to open fire.

  


If Clint were making a scrapbook called “fucked up moments in my fucked up life,” this one would be the cover. Just a note.

  


Kate takes out the ones Loki misses. The ones in the rafters. They’re not as fast as her. And she’s killed them for it. His Katie-Kate. America is pulling herself out of the rubble, launching herself onto the ground floor. She cracks her knuckles.  
  
“Miss Chavez,” Fury warns, “I would appreciate it if you did not fall under the same predicament as Agent Bishop.” America seems like she might protest, but she relents quickly, taking a step back.  
  
“Kate, you’re better than this,” she says. Kate turns towards her, notching another arrow.  
  
“America,” Kate says, (and she’s using her ‘upper east side’ voice, the one that makes her sound like an utter bitch), “you have no idea what’s going to happen.”  
  
“Could we wrap this up, please?” Loki says, “I almost forgot how much humans like to talk.” Kate snickers, which is just plain wrong.

  


What’s worse is that she sends an arrow for Nick Fury’s heart. Clint deflects it with one of his own-and she gets him right through the shoulder before he can fire again.  
  
“You do know this place is about to collapse, right?” Kate notes, “I mean, that’s why everyone was talking. Fury would rather we die than you get away.” Clint is gasping in pain and he’s not about to move his arm and fuck it up any more, but holy hell, Kate, what’s he done to you? She seems so unaffected and she’s striding over, standing over him. Clint thinks of the Kate on the rafters, and he thinks that it must’ve been years ago, because Katie-Kate is not a traitor and she’s not about to kick him in the face.

  


Except she is, and she does.

  


Clint Barton loses consciousness at this point, and like, when he hears about it later, he’s kind of happy about it? Because if he’d have to watch Katie-Kate string another arrow and point it straight at Fury’s heart, and if he’d had to watch Loki (still an idiotic name) take another few guys (scientists, geeks, whatever he’s got Kate he’s still got fucking Kate), he’d probably have done something really, really fucking stupid, and gotten himself killed. And Loki got away, with Kate, so that’s fucking spectacular.

  


In case anyone was wondering.

  


Good news, though: they stitched up Clint’s shoulder, and he should be battle ready in no time. Okay, not no time; he’s actually not supposed to go into action for a while because Kate did actually send an arrow through his shoulder, and could he please stop being an idiot for one minute of his pathetic life, and Nick Fury is saying this to him and all Clint can reply with is,  
  
“Who the fuck is supposed to feed the dog?!” And Fury glares at Clint with his one good eye and goes,  
  
“Barton, we’ve got a briefing to go to. Worry about your dog later.” Clint lets out a huff.  
  
“I’m injured.” he says. Fury crosses his arms.  
  
“Get. Up.” he orders.

  


Clint complies.

  


But he doesn’t stop worrying about the dog.

  


Or Kate.

  


Especially Kate.

  



	2. In Which a Meeting is Held

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers and the Young Avengers try to come up with a plan. It goes about as well as one might expect.

There is a vein pulsing in Nick Fury’s forehead-and even though everyone’s looking at the table and acting like they don’t notice, they totally do. Also, not that the junior league is judging, but the actual Avengers could be a little more forthcoming. They’re all just kind of sitting there, glowering, like it’s Clint that got nabbed instead of Katie, or something. 

 

Oh, right, about Clint: he literally looks like he’s about to murder someone. Kind of unnerving. 

 

“Alright,” Fury announces, slamming his hand on the table, “let me make this clear: this was not how I was planning to do this. But forces beyond my control have forced my hand.” 

“You mean Loki,” Billy asks, earning him a round of stares. Thor, in all his big, blond glory, looks like a mix between baffled and frustrated. The rest of the room shares his sentiment. Though no one wears it quite as well.

“Yes, Wiccan,” Fury says, “I mean Loki, God of Mischief. Which brings me to our first point-”

“How the hell did you kids know him?!” Clint demands, rising from his seat. “Seriously! You didn’t think to tell us? You didn’t think that maybe all of this could’ve been avoided if you’d just dropped us a fucking line?” Clint balls his hands into fists, snarling at the kids like they’ve done him a personal injustice. Natasha’s hand finds his forearm.

“Barton,” she says, making eye contact with Billy (the kind that makes a chill run up his spine), “sit.” She flits her eyes away from Billy, her gaze meeting Clint’s.

“We’re worried too, you know,” Noh-Varr interjects, “I mean, he kidnapped my girlfriend. My friend-girl. My ‘Noh-Var, can we not discuss this right now? We’re getting shot at.’” Clint shakes off Natasha’s grip, leaping back out of his seat. For an instant, it seems as though he might actually slide over the table and strangle the alien boy.

“You wanna run that by me one more time?” Clint snarls. Noh-Varr’s eyes widen.

“Um,” he creaks out, “no?” Clint jabs a finger in Noh-Varr’s direction.

“She is not your girlfriend, kid,” Clint insists. 

“Getting creepy there, Barton.” Tony says, from his spot on the wall. “Please don’t force the Lolita references out of me. They make everyone uncomfortable.” Steve raises a quizzical eyebrow, to which Bruce mumbles, “don’t ask,” under his breath. 

 

 

“For your information, Stark,” Clint snaps, “she’s nineteen.” The room falls into an uneasy silence. Fury lets out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Clint lets his arms fall to his sides in exasperation. “What? She is!”

“So not the point,” Teddy says.

“Okay, guys,” Natasha interjects, raising her hands in a calming fashion, “let’s give Barton a break. Especially you, Stark. Or shall we go through your sexual history?”

“Dude, you had sex with Katie?” Teddy asks. Noh-Varr’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Is that why she didn’t want to go steady?” he whispers to America, who shares Nick Fury’s look of murderous rage.

“What?!” Clint says, shocked, “I’ve never-how could you think-”

“Chicos!” America roars, slamming a fist on the table, “and Chica. Could we all shut the fuck up for a minute, here?” Nick Fury gives America a curt nod of approval.

“Well put, Miss Chavez,” he says, to which she shrugs. “Any more interruptions?” Fury says, addressing the greater audience. Clint looks like he might say something else, but a swift elbow in the ribs from Natasha serves as enough of a warning for Clint to sit back down, arms crossed.

 

 

He’s pouting like a child. Ridiculous. Fury makes a point of rolling his good eye.

 

 

“As some of you might be aware,” the Director continues, “Two hours ago, a man in a ridiculous costume arrived in a burst of magical energy. He stole the tesseract, several of our scientists, and Agent Bishop.”

“Oh, is that all?” Tony says. Fury’s eye glints with frustration.

“Actually,” Fury counters, “no. It isn’t. Interestingly enough, Agent Bishop seemed to know the man personally. Anyone here ever heard of Loki?” Thor stiffens in his seat, though Fury’s gaze falls to the teenagers exchanging nervous glances. “Miss Chavez?” Fury presses, “he seemed familiar with you. Care to explain?” America shoots Fury a glower as her response.

 

 

This is when Natasha leans forward. You know, the woman who does interrogations for a living. She drew her lips into a line, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. It’s not even that she’s like, super scary, not yet-but it’s like, she could probably start breaking fingers if they don’t start talking. Noh-Varr cracks first.

 

 

“Okay,” Noh-Varr blurts out, “you guys can’t get mad.” Billy’s palms meet his face in frustration.

“Stop talking,” Billy whispers.

“Like, three months ago, this magical kid showed up out of nowhere. Completely random. America found him. Or he found her. I don’t remember,” Noh-Varr continues, his words coming out in a jumble. America crosses her arms. “But so, I think he was looking for Billy? I don’t know. He hung out with us for a while. He didn’t give us much choice.”

“Are you telling me you were bullied by a child?” Nick Fury asks. 

“More like he wouldn’t leave us alone,” Billy replies. He neatly folds his hands on the table, letting out a sign. “let’s make a few things clear. One,” Billy lifts his index finger, “Kid Loki, as we called him, was a mostly de-powered God of mischief. We had no idea he was going to be a threat. Two. Director Fury has made it abundantly clear to us on multiple occasions that he doesn’t want to be bothered with our ‘kid crap.’ Three, and this is a big one,” Billy points his finger at Thor, “Loki is his brother. Their magics are connected. Thor knew the entire time.”

“So don’t put this on us!” Teddy exclaims, clasping Billy’s shoulder with reverence.

 

 

Dead silence.

 

 

“Wait,” Clint says, as if he just managed to process everything, “Thor knew?” Natasha shakes her head. Clint spins in his chair, which is honestly kind of silly looking, but he’s got enough rage written onto his face that nobody bothers to laugh. “Did you know?” Clint barks. Thor ignores the question, instead locking eyes with Billy from across the table.

“Did he speak of me?” Thor asks. It is plainly said, evenly, though it is an odd (and kind of selfish thing) to ask in the middle of the war room.

“Um,” Billy begins-only for America to lean forward on the table, leveling her gaze with Thor’s.

“Not at all,” America says. “Not once.”

“So you did know!” Clint demands. Thor nods.

“I thought he was dead,” Thor confesses, his eyes now set on the tabletop. “But he was not. I thought he might come find me. He did not. I wanted to, what do you say on this plane?”

“Give him space?” Bruce offers.

“That’s all well and good,” Tony points out, “but isn’t your brother oh, the God of Mischief. Doesn’t he kill people for fun? Isn’t that in his job description?” Thor balls his hands into fists.

“Do not judge my brother, Tony Stark,” Thor demands.

“Yeah, I mean, he was kind of cool in an annoying kid kind of way,” Teddy says.

“He knew all the best record stores!” Noh-Varr points out, “somehow.” 

“Quite frankly we had no idea he was going to be a threat until he kidnapped Kate two hours ago,” Billy adds. Thor shoots the teenagers a baffled stare.

 

 

Clint’s been gritting his teeth this whole time, by the way. Not in a happy mood.

 

 

“How fucking nice,” Clint snarls, “that you all got to experience the joy of fucking friendship! Isn’t that just spectacular for everyone?!” It’s at this point that Natasha gives up on reigning him in, deciding that it would be best for Clint to just put it all out on the table.

 

 

Hopefully, it doesn’t get too weird.

 

 

“I mean,” Billy interjects, “That’s not really what happened. I mean, the whole ‘joy of friendship’ thing.”

“This isn’t an eighties cartoon,” Teddy adds, “we weren’t, like, going to Starbucks and going shopping or some shit.”

“We were kind of saving the multiverse,” Noh-Varr says, “now that I think about it.”

“So you’re fucking welcome,” America finishes. For a moment, none of the adults say anything-they seem to be stunned into a “did that really just happen?” sort of silence. 

 

 

“The multiverse?” Bruce asks, “How did you get your hands on that kind of power?” The kids fall into a sort of awkward mumbling amongst themselves. Finally, America raises her hand.

“Surprise,” she deadpans. Bruce balks at her. 

“Okay, I’m going to throw an idea out,” Tony interjects, “Loki was using you kids as a ticket to ride through the multiverse. So while you guys were all, ‘look at us, saving the multiverse,’ your little companion was probably doing whatever the multiverse equivalent of a back alley deal is. And surprise, sweetheart, you kids got played.” 

“That…” Billy begins, “would actually make a lot of sense.” He pauses, mumbling a swear under his breath. Tony grins, not because the situation calls for grinning but because he’s right, and he’s pretty pleased about that. So not the time to be self satisfied.

 

 

“He called me ‘sweetheart,’” America hisses, and Teddy pats her shoulder, as if trying to say, ‘I know, please don’t kill him.’

 

 

“Which brings us right back to my fucking point, by the way,” Clint snarls, “why the hell didn’t you drop us a line?”

“Drop you…a line?” Noh asks, as if he’s never heard that line before. He might not have, actually.

“It’s old people slang,” Teddy whispers, though Clint apparently hears him, because he’s literally about to climb on top of the table.

“I’ll knock your fucking teeth in, kid,” Clint says, and Billy steps in front of his boyfriend-because oh no, you did not.

“Agent Barton,” Fury intervenes, “Sit. Down.” 

“I’m not even that old!” Clint fires back, possibly at Director Fury, but probably not. Natasha resists the urge to smack him-she is a professional, after all.

“Wait!” Noh-Varr says, like he hasn’t been paying attention to Clint at all, “this all totally clicks. It’s like, Loki fake died and then used us because he must’ve known about America’s special power-which is a totally awesome special power, by the way, and then he obviously found whatever he was looking for in the multiverse because now he’s an adult again and he’s kidnapped my girlfriend and he stole that super powerful cube thing and he’s probably going to try to take over the world.”

 

 

“Kid,” Tony says, “is your superpower exposition, or something?”

“We don’t usually let him talk this much,” Billy replies, “but yeah. It pretty much is.”

“Also, I look good naked!” Noh-Varr states, “And Kate told me that was basically a superpower!”

 

 

Oh. Would you look at that. Clint’s out of his seat again.

 

 

“You’re not helping your archetype of being the pretty, stupid one,” Tony notes. The rest of Noh’s team shrugs.

“He rarely does,” Billy says.

“Is anyone else concerned about the whole God of Mischief taking over the world thing?” Steve interjects, his confusion barely hidden in his tone, “because everyone is talking about thirty things at once and I think we’re glossing over a pretty important point here.”

“The Captain is right,” Fury says.

“Also, is she calling herself Miss America?” Steve asks, turning his head to Fury, then back to America. “Are you Miss America?”

“I mean,” she says, “my name actually is America,” she says, and Steve actually seems to find that amusing.

“Are you my sidekick?” Steve asks. America smirks.

“Do I look like Kate Bishop to you?” she retorts.

“Kate Bishop who was just kidnapped!” Clint yells, tossing his arms out in frustration. Natasha swerves back to avoid getting smacked in the face. “And she’s more than just a sidekick. She’s my partner. And if we don’t figure out how to get her back in the next two seconds I’m going to go get her myself!”

 

 

“He’s definitely banging her,” Teddy whispers to his boyfriend. Billy shrugs.

“I think he just really, really wants to,” he replies.

 

 

“The next person,” Nick Fury says, slowly, in that dark, low voice that lets everyone know that death is imminently near, “who interrupts before I finish the plan is going to be court marshaled.” Bruce and Teddy go to raise their hands at the same time, prompting Fury to add, “and for those of you who are immune to bullets-please know we have other methods of dealing with you.” Two hands drop back to the table with a solid thud.

“We now know that Loki clearly had plans to steal the Tesseract, plans he likely developed while traveling through the multiverse. Now, whether or not the kidnapping of Agent Bishop was also premeditated has yet to be seen. What we do know is that if we find Loki, we find the Tesseract, and we find Agent Bishop.”

“Director,” Natasha offers, “might I offer my opinion?” Fury eyes her for a moment before nodding. “I don’t think Loki sought out Kate Bishop. I think she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s just as likely that Loki would’ve taken Clint, had Clint been standing there instead.” The room watches her with the intent, and Fury seems to be smirking to himself. “I also doubt that this was romantically motivated, as judging by the testaments of the Young Avengers, Kate Bishop was involved almost exclusively with Noh-Varr. And, if Loki truly was a ‘kid,’ as they called him, then I highly doubt he would have wanted to pursue any sort of romantic relationship with a young adult to begin with.”

“Agent Romanov,” the Director says, “thank you for being the first person to make any sense at all today.” Natasha nods.

“Of course, Director,” she says. Clint has taken to pouting again.

 

“Agent Barton?” Fury says, “You know Agent Bishop better than anyone here. Anything you think we should be aware of?” Clint seems to bristle at the comment.

“Care to specify?” Clint bites.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Noh asks. “Are you going to be like, her knight in shining armor? Saving her from the evil wizard? Oh my gosh, this is gonna be awesome!”

“Permission to knock the alien’s teeth out, Director,” Clint seethes, making Noh-Varr recoil.

“Permission not granted,” Fury says. “And what I meant, Barton, was for you to elaborate on Kate Bishop’s skill set.” Clint lets out a coughing sort of sound.

“Oh. Well. I mean, she’s absolutely perfect,” Clint says.

“Real subtle,” Tony mutters, earning him a glare from Bruce.

“She can shoot pretty much as well as I can, but she’s more easily distracted. You know? She’s nineteen. She can be a little scatterbrained. Not that she’s any less perfect in battle, though.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve interrupts, “but are Clint and Agent Bishop dating? Is that what’s going on?”

“They’re not dating,” Natasha groans, her tone heavy with frustration. “And even if they were, it’s not like she’s sixteen, or something. So enough with the side comments. Clint’s just lost his partner. You’d be pretty pissed off too, regardless of romantic feelings.” Clint squeezes Nat’s knee under the table, and she makes a “tch-ing” sound. But Natasha is not one to be crossed-and if she says that Clint’s sex life is now off limits, then no one is stupid enough to try and say otherwise.

 

 

“So then,” Teddy says, “is there like, a plan?” Nick Fury can only shake his head and sigh.

“Have any of you kids met the good doctor?” Tony asks, giving Bruce a hearty pat on the back. “We’re gonna trace the gamma waves on that cube. Piece of cake.”

“We?” Bruce asks aloud.

“I mean no respect to the Doctor,” Billy interrupts, “but I was getting major magic from the cube. Plus, no offense to the more science oriented members of this committee,” 

“Committee?” Tony says, “kid, does this look like prom to you?”

“I know Loki. We,” Billy gestures to his team, “know Loki. And science? That’s not his style. Thor can back me up on this.” For the second time in one meeting, everyone turns to the big, blonde wall of a man, who’s been oddly silent for this discussion.

 

 

Thor removes his fist from under his chin, sparing Billy a glance that says, “why do you insist on putting me on the spot?” Billy tilts his head in response.

 

 

“My brother has been known to prefer the arcane,” Thor says, finally. “If young William believes there to be magical interference, I believe him.” Tony snickers.

“Listen, guys, I know it’s fun to believe in magic. I do.” Tony places a sympathetic hand to his chest. “But all we’re really dealing with is some very advanced science. So if you want to go make ‘magic’,” Tony is sure to add air quotes, “you go right ahead. But leave the real finding to the scientists.”

“You keep treating this like it’s a group project,” Bruce says, “this is not going to be a group effort, Stark. And if the kind thinks he’s got a lead, let him follow it.”

“And also magic is awesome, and you’re kind of a jerk,” Teddy exclaims, placing his hand over Billy’s. “Like, I don’t go around making fun of rich people.”

“Why would you even make fun of rich people?” Tony retorts, “that doesn’t make any sense. You make no sense.”

“You know what?” Nick Fury says, “this meeting is adjourned. Banner, track the gamma waves. Kaplan, do the same thing but with…magic.” 

“Um-” Billy asks, and Fury shoots him a glare.

“Just do it,” Fury demands, and Billy is quick to nod.

 

 

Clint’s taken to staring out the window rather wistfully in these past few minutes. Nobody’s really sure if he’s still in on the conversation, and the way he jumps when Fury barks, 

“Barton!” does not bode well for his focus.

“You still with us, Clint?” Nat asks. Clint nods.

“Oh yeah. Totally. So, when do we leave?” Clint asks, only for the room to groan.

“As soon as we find where Loki’s hiding,” Noh-Varr says, because he has somehow not grasped the concept that Clint hates him. Or he’s grasped it, and just doesn’t care.

“So less talking,” Clint says, rising from his seat, “and more finding!” he slams his hand down on the table to make his point.

“You’re a genius,” Nat replies, the softness in her tone disappeared in a haze of Clint’s daftness. 

“What’s expected of the rest of us?” Steve adds, “if we’re not on the finding committee?”

“We wait,” Fury says. Clint digs his nails into his palms.

“That’s it?” Clint demands.

“That’s it,” Fury finishes. And for now, it is.

 

—

 

It feels like being trapped underwater, in a slow moving universe where thoughts don’t connect to actions and Kate feels something, but she’s not really sure what it is or why it’s in her head.

 

She feels. She does not think. She’d notice that she isn’t thinking but that would require thinking and suddenly you’re in a mobius strip of a thinking-not-thinking conundrum and that’s not what this story is about.

 

“Tell me more about the Avengers,” Loki says, and Kate’s words are there, though she does not recall saying them.

“Clint’s going to be their weak spot, here,” Kate says, tilting her head. “Did you see how he hesitated? He’s not Natasha. He can’t disconnect feeling from the fight.” Loki grins.

“And you?” he asks.

“I don’t really feel…anything,” Kate admits. She cannot lie.

“That is perfectly fine, Kate Bishop. Perfectly fine.” He seems to consider his words carefully, before speaking once more. “I was planning on taking Chavez, you know. Perhaps I am too spiteful, in that regard. Perhaps it is something else. It’s of no matter, now. I am coming to realize that you are truly valuable asset, Kate Bishop.” Kate feels proud of this, and smiles. The sentiment is gone before she can fully grasp it.

“Thank you,” Kate says, like Loki is speaking of her hair. Someone mumbles something to Loki, or she thinks it is mumbled, as she’s found herself having a hard time hearing other voices, lately. The scientists’. Her own. Not Loki’s. When Loki turns back to her, he seems pleased. She knows this is not good, in that small part where her mind still turns. In the part that reacts in the most base of ways, and nothing more.

“Tell me, Kate Bishop,” Loki asks, “have you ever been to Germany?”


End file.
